


illicit affairs

by killerleo



Category: Glee
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Angst with a Happy Ending, M/M, Songfic, based off taylor swift's illicit affairs
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-24
Updated: 2020-07-24
Packaged: 2021-03-05 06:27:03
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,194
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25489951
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/killerleo/pseuds/killerleo
Summary: "Sebastian never wanted it to be like this, an illicit affair, behind closed doors, secrets hidden and shame ridden."~based off of the taylor swift song, 'illicit affairs' from folklore
Relationships: Blaine Anderson/Sebastian Smythe
Comments: 11
Kudos: 55





	illicit affairs

**Author's Note:**

> ok so taylor swift decided to release her best ever album on my 20th birthday and i haven't been able to do anything but listen to it on repeat all day so. here we go.
> 
> warnings of infidelity/cheating obvi  
> angst (!) with happy ending

Sebastian never wanted it to be like this, an illicit affair, behind closed doors, secrets hidden and shame ridden. 

Blaine would always leave with shifting eyes and a hood over his head, making sure nobody would see him and make Sebastian do the same, pretending as if it didn’t kill them to do it, pretending they both didn’t want to scream with the burning frustration that poisoned them both from the inside out. 

They were friends, everyone knew that, but Blaine would always say he was going out on a run, to the gym, to a workout class - anywhere that meant he’d be flushed when he returned, another layer of lies to be draped over their existing prevarication. 

The guilt even affected Sebastian sometimes, rather than just the shame and heartache which were a constant thrumming under his skin. Blaine and Kurt’s marriage was a fabrication at best these days, both of them caring for one another but just not the way it used to be, but he didn’t think that even Hummel deserved what he and Blaine did, how it started off in beautiful rooms and ended in parking lots, overwhelming guilt and self-loathing. 

He told himself that he could stop whenever he wanted, let the man he loved return to his husband who he didn’t love, but he knew he was just lying to himself, addicted and unable to let go even when it killed him every time. 

It started with longing stares, back in high school, after college, longing and yearning until colliding with such force they rattled, unable to pry themselves out of each other’s arms for the last 6 months. Their clandestine meetings were born from that single glance, which repeated itself over and over, and Sebastian knew he would relieve those stares his whole life, too desperate for love to be hurt by the pain. 

He feels a part of him decay, every time, but he sees the intensity and love in Blaine’s eyes and it sedates him, just slightly, even as he dies a million little times.

They cover up with cologne, carefully selected as a mask and facade, picked out to leave no traces behind, no scent sight or touch. Sometimes it feels as if he doesn’t even exist, but then Blaine fixes him with those honey eyes and suddenly he’s the only person alive, a rush, a high, an overdose of lust and love that burns so fiercely it scars. 

Their words and meetings can be mercurial and capricious, volatile explosions which stem from frustration and overpowering highs that suffocate and blind them, using anger to cover up the anguish they both feel. 

Hundreds of times, they have illicit affairs and stolen stares, each time Sebastian wondering why he’s not worth enough to be with, but then again knowing he’s never made that an option, too afraid of the idea that Blaine would leave him - leave whatever they had. He didn’t love his husband as more than a friend anymore, nostalgia and stubbornness keeping them both together, but that doesn’t help Sebastian feel any less desolate, bleeding through the lies, which repeated a million little times. 

Blaine asks him to not call him killer.

Sebastian asks him not to call him baby.

He wants to scream it, beg, plead not to make this harder, not to rip him open any more, how Blaine has made him this godforsaken mess that he never used to be, plagued by feelings and love and everything that hurts and makes him into an idiotic fool. 

The worst part, the part that burns the most, is how good they could be together. Blaine has shown him colours that he was never able to see, and can never see with anyone else. He taught him a secret language that unlocked words within him that he never knew existed, and now can’t say them to anyone else. 

They laugh, and sing, and dance, and tangle their minds, souls, and bodies, in the briefest moments that let them succumb to one another before the fucked up mess they made comes back to haunt them. 

The worst part is how he knows that Blaine wants to stay with him, wants those clandestine meetings to bleed into one another until they just become a normality, a home, free from the plague they have set upon themselves. Sebastian wants to beg him to stay, wrap him in his arms and flood him with his cologne, not the one picked out for Kurt. 

When they were kids he wanted to be the thing that drove an ax between their relationship, and now his wish is fulfilled, and it’s a poisonous nightmare that taunts him when he’s awake, teasing him with how easy it is to have Blaine in his arms and then have him torn away. 

Maybe he should hate him, judge him for what he’s doing. But how can he hate someone that loves so much, but just doesn’t know where to put it? Sebastian could never judge him, the hypocrisy would cut him in half, not after everything he’s done in his life. And maybe this is the result. 

He held Blaine in his arms, clutching at the skin with a tenderness that was ferocious, scared to grip too tight in case he never came back, but unable to let him go, too selfish. Against the curls, he could hear himself whisper, mutter deadly words that were shameful and heartbreaking. 

“For you, I would ruin myself, a million little times.”

They were out of his mouth before he could think, seeping into their skin with the promise of the truth and the harshness of reality, unfair to both of them and yet the first time he hadn’t lied. 

He didn’t see Blaine for a week, no more meetings in parking lots, pretend runs, fake cologne covering them and stolen stares. The world faded of the colours that Blaine had shown him, his mouth feeling numb as the language he taught him slipped out from his mind, his senses paling and body crumbling, the life which had been breathed into him sucked out.

He had been asked not to call him killer. 

Instead he just called him his love, and it had driven him away. 

A week without Blaine was a lifetime of a dwindling high, an eternity of torment and longing which was never fulfilled. He had loved too fiercely, and even though his love was reciprocated, the courage wasn’t. 

Until a knock on his door, a sudden awakening of his senses cutting through his cold apartment with the bang. Pulled open, it revealed a tear stained, deflated man, with eyes that burned bright and sore, and a face set with resolve and nerves.

“I would love you, a million little times,” he uttered, his words breathing life into his consciousness and warmth into his bones, the sound sweeter than any music they had danced around his kitchen to. 

And when Sebastian dragged him in for a kiss, the world exploded into a forbidden kaleidoscope of colours that Blaine had shown to him, staining his body with paint that was no longer illicit, but beautiful. 


End file.
